conscious community

But the rest of the world seems oblivious to the dimensions of our daring adventure.  We hardly risk discussing our struggle with others fearing we’d only receive their contempt.  People defend against the depth journey for good reason -- it strips them of their psychic structure, even if it is false, ejects them from their safe position in the family, gay and straight, and leaves them standing alone -- with the truth.  No wonder most avoid this terrifying fate.

In the past, when our true self erupted and disturbed our equanimity, we turned to support groups, liberated religions, and friends and family for support and protection from the loneliness of our budding originality.  

But now, we’ve out-grown conventional structures and traditional answers as a response to the new life gestating within us.  We’re alone in the wilderness following a path unmarked, listening to barely discernible whispers that guide the way.  At times, the path seems more uncertain than true.

We yearn for a community with answers -- but can’t go back to the old standbys.  We need a new community at a new level of consciousness.  Yet we fear this ideal community doesn’t exist.  The fellowship we seek may be so revolutionary, so at the forefront of the evolution of human consciousness, that we are among its first members. 

But we as gays who have so often been alone and outcast or any as rare mutants who deviant from the norm -- we’ve felt like this before.  So, when we arrive at the meeting hall, it’s up to us to set up the chairs -- and keep the faith that others will come.  We imagine that when they arrive, they’ll say, “Thanks for being here and setting up the room.  I’ve waited for this fellowship -- forever.”

Affirm:  If I am the first, I won’t be alone for long.  Let me prepare the way for others to follow.